Through the Gate of Tears

Actualizing your potential on the Days of Awe.

After crying intermittently for 36 hours, ever since the eerie wail of ambulance sirens carrying the dead and wounded from the terror attack at the Hillel Cafe woke me up last Tuesday night, I thought I had no more tears to shed. Then I saw the picture of the wedding dress.

It appeared in an Israeli newspaper -- a photo of a long, white, taffeta and chiffon gown, hanging forlornly on a hanger on the door of the bride's bedroom closet, because the 20-year-old bride, Nava Applebaum, is clothed in a shroud instead. Nava was buried together with her father, Dr. David Applebaum, on the day that was supposed to be her wedding day.

The photo next to it shows Nava's fiance Chanan Sand beside Nava's open grave, holding the wedding ring he had intended to place on her finger. He placed it instead on her lifeless body as it was lowered into the grave.

There are other pictures in that day's newspaper: A picture of the handsome, smiling 39-year-old Yaakov Ben Shabbat, who was killed in Tuesday's terrorist attack outside the Tzirfin army base. He had left work early in order to purchase a cake for his eight-year-old daughter's birthday.

There's a photo of a bereft, crying 12-year-old, Sapir Moshe, being supported by relatives at the funeral of his mother, killed while sipping coffee with her friend at Cafe Hillel.

There's a picture of two smiling young soldiers: Yonathan Peleg and Efrat Schwartzman, killed together in the Tzrifin attack. Yonathan was killed instantly; Efrat succumbed to her wounds the next morning. "She surely didn't want him to go alone," cried Yonathan's father.

There's a picture of the weeping, anguished parents of 22-year-old Alon Mizrachi, the guard at the Hillel Cafe, who fell on the terrorist, struggled with him, and was blown up with him.

In my newspaper, however, the page with the most tearstains is the photo of the wedding dress. The tragedy of Nava Applebaum is the most wrenching of all of Tuesday's 15 victims because it represents all that could have been -- that came so close to being -- but was not: The joy of the two sets of parents, the jubilation of the young couple, the union they had planned and waited for, and the rejoicing of the 500 guests who were invited to the wedding and attended the bride's funeral instead.

I look around me and see on the tearstained faces of everyone I meet that we, the broken and bleeding Jews of Israel, who have sustained over 800 losses during the three years of the "Oslo War," we are decimated by the pain of holy Nava's aborted wedding.

TEARS ON THE DAYS OF AWE

The Unesana Tokef prayer of the High Holyday liturgy declares: "On Rosh Hashana it is inscribed and on Yom Kippur it is sealed… who will live and who will die, who will die at his predestined time and who not at his predestined time, who by water and who by fire, who by sword, who by beast, who by famine, who by storm…"

Jews are supposed to cry on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur.

Jews are supposed to cry on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. Rabbi Avigdor Nebanzahl wrote that if the Jewish people would cry tears of repentance on Rosh Hashana, when all the occurrences of the subsequent year are determined, we would not have to cry tears of grief throughout the year.

It's hard to summon tears of repentance. What we did throughout the year -- in terms of others and God and ourselves -- may not have been exemplary, but was it really so bad? I feel a twinge of guilt when I remember speaking harshly to someone, but should I shed tears over that little misdemeanor? I regret my impatience with my husband and children, but, after all, I'm only human.

The sages say that ever since the destruction of the Second Holy Temple, the "gate of prayer" is closed, but the "gate of tears" is always open. What is the secret to accessing the well of tears?

Starting a month before Rosh Hashana and culminating in Yom Kippur, Jews are bidden to examine their deeds and "do teshuva." The word teshuva, usually translated as repentance, means "returning." We are supposed to return to God and to some improved version of ourselves. The term is fraught with irony; most of us have never even visited the spiritual level we aspire to "return" to.

Teshuva means not a sudden change of lifestyle, but a determined change of direction. If I was proceeding southward, now I turn around and take my first sure steps eastward. Teshuva entails making a concrete plan to actualize change in small but steady increments.

THE GAP

The prospect of teshuva frightens many of us, because we consider it a calumny against who we already are. The English term "repentance" implies that I am a despicable sinner, loathsome in my own eyes and in the eyes of God, sullied by my actions, like a filthy, smelly vagrant in need of a bath.

Teshuva is an affirmation, not a rejection, of who we are on the deepest level.

Rebbetzin Tzipora Heller points out the true Jewish attitude toward teshuva: Not, "How wicked I am because I did that," but rather, "How could someone like me have done something like that?" Teshuva is an affirmation, not a rejection, of who we are on the deepest level. Rather than being characterized by our lowly actions, we repudiate our lowly actions as being unworthy of the holy souls we inherently are.

We cry on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur when we reflect on what we could have been, when we compare our majestic potential to our shabby reality. Every one of us has the potential to be spiritually great, to perfectly accomplish our unique task in this world, to valiantly meet our challenges, and to dexterously fix our shortcomings. On the High Holydays, we reflect on the perfected vision of ourselves, and cry over the mediocrity we permitted in its place.

We could have been magnanimous. Instead we were petty.

We could have been generous. Instead we were stingy.

We could have been honest. Instead we told self-serving lies.

We could have buoyed up others with kind words. Instead we wounded them with deprecations.

We could have esteemed our parents for their ongoing contribution to our lives. Instead we made them feel useless and outdated.

We could have made our homes sanctuaries of love and peace. Instead we degenerated into bickering and blaming.

We could have spent our spare time studying the profundities of the Torah. Instead we opted for cable TV.

We could have become the person God created us to be. Instead we settled for a mediocre imitation.

My friend Sarah taught me to visualize what she calls "my full potential self." This is the perfected image of myself in all its details. I see the way my full potential self walks, the gentle, soothing tone with which she speaks, the warm smile she gives to everyone she encounters, the delicate touch with which she caresses the world.

While each of us has a unique "full potential self," the Torah delineates the general form of every Jew's full potential self: it does not speak ill of others, nor embarrass others, nor afflict others with words or actions; it respects the property of others; it controls untoward passions; it honors parents; it is scrupulously honest in business; etc.

The "sins" we do teshuva for on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur are the instances we fell short of our full potential self. One word for "sin" in Hebrew is chait, which means "missing the mark." The disparity between our full potential and our present reality fuels our heartfelt teshuva.

TOO LATE

The culprit which keeps us from crying over our failures is the sense that we have all the time in the world to fix them. Twenty years ago I had on my desk a plaque proclaiming: "Be patient. God isn't finished with me yet." Unfortunately, patience -- a sterling trait when applied to others -- can degenerate into complacency when applied to ourselves. Such an attitude depletes our spiritual quest of energy and urgency. Instead of hastening to actualize our inner goals, we amble.

Patience -- a sterling trait when applied to others -- can degenerate into complacency when applied to ourselves.

Personally, I find that I never finish any project that doesn't have a deadline. The Jewish calendar gives us a deadline for teshuva: Rosh Hashana. Then God in His mercy grants us a ten-day extension. Yom Kippur is the final deadline.

Rosh Hashana forces us to confront the truth that we do not have all the time in the world, for two reasons: The other people in our lives will not always be here; and we will not always be here.

The relationships that we need to mend can be mended only as long as the other person is alive. The place in the Yom Kippur service where I shed the most profuse tears is the line in the Confessional, "For the sin I have committed before You in devaluing parents and teachers." Both my parents have gone to the other world. Now there is no way to fix the words uttered with an exasperated tone, the conversations with them curtly curtailed for "more important" obligations. My ability to do complete teshuva on this relationship was buried with my parents.

The other illusion that makes us procrastinate in doing teshuva is our failure to face our own mortality. One searing lesson we Jews in Israel have learned from this war of terror is the fragility of life. I venture to say that not one of us is sure he or she will be here next Rosh Hashana -- or tomorrow.

Our friends Michael and Miriam live in the town of Efrat. During the first year of the Oslo War, the "tunnels road" to Efrat was an intermittent target of terrorist gunfire. Several people were killed on that road. One evening Michael was driving home while talking to Miriam on his cellphone. They started to argue about something. Suddenly Michael noticed he was on the "tunnels road." He abruptly ended the argument, saying, "I'm driving on the 'tunnels road' now. How would we feel if the last conversation we ever had was an argument?"

Ultimately, we are all driving on the "tunnels road." For all we know -- given the exigencies of accidents, heart attacks, and terror attacks -- every conversation could be our last. What a tragedy it would be if our last encounter in this world ends up being an argument, a nasty complaint, a sarcastic joke, a petty criticism…

Two millennia ago the sage Hillel taught: "If not now, when?" If I don't actualize my potential now, who knows if I will have another chance? If I don't fix my bad traits now, in this world, which the Kabbalists called, "the world of fixing," I might very well be buried with my shortcomings.

Death is the final, unbridgeable chasm between what could have been and what is. The ultimate agony is the remorse each of us will feel when we find ourselves in the "other world," totally unable to fix any of our flaws or failures. This is the Jewish definition of hell.

THE KITTEL

Yom Kippur is a miraculous gift God gives us every year. God's offer is too good to refuse: If we do teshuva, He will give us kapora, atonement. This means that He will press the "delete" button on the actions and patterns that entrap us. When the shofar blows at the end of Yom Kippur, we are, for that moment, our full potential self.

Of course, we are free post Yom Kippur to lapse into old patterns of behavior, to pick up where we left off, to change directions back again. But on Yom Kippur itself, if we have done teshuva, God picks us up and moves us over the chasm between who we are and who we truly want to be.

According to Jewish tradition, one's wedding day is like Yom Kippur. The bride and groom fast, pray the prayers of Yom Kippur, and are forgiven all their sins. When they stand under the wedding canopy, they are in a state of pristine perfection.

According to Jewish tradition, grooms wear a long-sleeved, knee-length white garment called a kittel. The kittel is worn for the first time at the wedding, then on every Yom Kippur, and finally as a burial shroud.

It is possible to be spiritually great. It is possible to be as pure and exalted on the day of death as on Yom Kippur or the wedding day. Dr. David Applebaum, who, with selfless dedication, single-handedly changed the face of emergency medicine in Jerusalem, did it. Nava Applebaum, who lovingly, joyfully cared for juvenile cancer patients, did it. For such individuals, who viewed life as an opportunity to perfect themselves and the world, the shroud and the wedding garment are one.

Related Articles:

About the Author

Sara Yoheved Rigler is the author of God Winked: Tales and Lessons from my Spiritual Adventures, as well as the bestsellers: Holy Woman, Lights from Jerusalem, and Battle Plans: How to Fight the Yetzer Hara(with Rebbetzin Tziporah Heller). She is a popular international lecturer on subjects of Jewish spirituality. She has given lectures and workshops in Israel, England, Switzerland, South Africa, Mexico, Chile, Canada, and over thirty American cities. A graduate of Brandeis University, after fifteen years of practicing and teaching meditation and Eastern philosophy, she discovered "the world's most hidden religion: Torah Judaism." Since 1985, she has been living as a Torah-observant Jew in the Old City of Jerusalem with her husband and two children. She presents a highly-acclaimed Marriage Workshop for women [seewww.kesherwife.com] as well as a Gratitude Workshop. To invite her to your community, please write to info@sararigler.com.

Visitor Comments: 22

(22)
Anonymous,
November 10, 2010 10:58 AM

great story

the best sumury of life, rosh hashana, yom kipur, realation ship could not do a better job than this moving real life story.
hipothetical examples are good but they have nothing on the true story of life as it happend.
my compliments to the writter.
hag sameah.

(21)
Dianne Wisse,
November 10, 2010 10:57 AM

Profoundly moving

I've just started to receive these emails from Aish.com thanks to a dear friend. This piece gave me an understanding of the Days of Awe that I had never had before. Thank you so much!

(20)
Shaindy,
November 10, 2010 10:57 AM

Ms. Rigler your articles are always inspiring!!

In such a real way, your articles are so very inspiring. In the merit of bringing so many people to a new level of thinking, a new level of heart, May you be inscribed in the book of Life for a lovely, healthy and beautiful new year. Thank you!

(19)
Maxine ELkins,
November 10, 2010 10:57 AM

Sara Riglers writing

I just want to thank you for always including Sara Rigler's work in your weekly e-mailing. I am always so emotionally and spiritually moved by ALL of her pieces. I send them on to my Israel/Jewish activist e-mail list of over 250 people world wide. She is a most fantastic author. We are priviledged to know her through her writings and our visits to Yerusahliyim's Rova.
Maxine Elkins
Princeton

(18)
Dana,
November 10, 2010 10:56 AM

Great 'wake-up'er

I really enjoyed your article,and generally reading the inspirational articles on Aish has helped me to strive to be a great Jew.I just don't like the phrase "Of course, we are free post Yom Kippur to lapse into old patterns of behaviour..."I disagree with that.When we do Teshuva on Yom Kippur we are meant to hold on to our renewed pure state and resolutions with dear life.Otherwise I might as well do 'tshuva' every year knowing that I will go back to my old habits afterwards.

(17)
geela applebaum gordon,
November 10, 2010 10:55 AM

a beauitful artical on nava Applebaum

my name is Geela Applebaum Gordon and I am the sister of the late Dr. David Applebaum and the aunt to Nava applebaum.

(16)
Anonymous,
November 10, 2010 10:55 AM

Thank you!

Ever since starting my path back to Observance 3 years ago, I've regularly read many of the articles on your website; and would like to thank everyone, and I've found Mrs Rigler's articles absolutely amazing and inspirational. You've done so much for me. Thank you and g'mar chesima tova.

(15)
Jennifer,
September 21, 2005 12:00 AM

Very powerful article!

Let us all pray to be able to actualize our potential, and be all we can be.

(14)
Anonymous,
September 28, 2003 12:00 AM

Mrs Rigler....Thank you for always writing the most thoughtful and meaningful articles....they are written so beautifully. They really inspire me to make changes in my life.....and they always make me cry!...... Thank you.

(13)
Anonymous,
September 28, 2003 12:00 AM

"We can be..."

I didn't want to read this article because I didn't want to be sad. When I found it under Growth and Renewal, I figured maybe I could grow throught the sadness, so I read it. What could be more ironic then to realize we "have never even visited the spiritual level we aspire to "return" to." "Small but steady" steps to the "gate of tears."

(12)
Anonymous,
September 25, 2003 12:00 AM

Awesome days

Written with crystalline purity and accessible simplicity. An inspirational invitation to return.

(11)
Selma,
September 24, 2003 12:00 AM

So much wisdom in so few words.

Ms. Rigler has written a profound distillation of teshuva, indeed, teshuva and beyond. As for the Nava, and all others...the loss defies summation. My heart grieves for Israel.

(10)
Toby Klein Greenwald,
September 24, 2003 12:00 AM

Beautiful, deep and thought-provoking

Thank you for your very beautiful, deep and thought-provoking article. You have expressed what many people are feeling and more. K'tiva v'hatima tova to all of Am Yisrael.

(9)
Anonymous,
September 24, 2003 12:00 AM

Wow! That really got me into the Yamim Noraim mood, and has finally started to get me thinking. Thanks!
Tizki LeMitzvot VeTizki Leshanim Rabot Tovot VeNeimot.

(8)
bunny,
September 23, 2003 12:00 AM

T O D A !

PLEASE KNOW THAT SINCE I HAVE JOINED I AM MOST INSPIRED BY YOUR TEACHINGS. YOU HAVE ENLIGHTENED ME WITH THINGS OF THE BIBLE WHICH I HAVE NEVER KNOWN. I LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR E.MAILS DAILY! AT THIS TIME MAY I WISH YOU ALL AND TO THE PEOPLE OF ISRAEL AND JEWS ALL OVER THE WORLD FOR A YEAR OF GOOD HEALTH AND EXTENDED PEACE! SHANA TOVA !

(7)
ilana,
September 22, 2003 12:00 AM

David and Nava Applebaum

There is an article in Time this week called a Father's last chat about how he took his daughter out to have some quality time with his daughter before the wedding. I cried and felt a sense of sadness all day at the utter waste of life. Two people who achieved so much and could have done so much more good in this world - their lives snuffed out.
Reading now your article I find my sense of outrage and grief are renewed. I have have just given birth to a beautiful son(Baruch Hashem) at 49 years of age. My joy in him is overladen with sorrow at the thought of a young woman who on the eve of her marriage had her life and the life of her father so brutally interrupted. The methods of the terrorists are so primative and brutal and it makes you wonder at how they can hope to achieve peace by such acts of senseless killing.I do believe they do not understand the first thing about real love or peace.
Let's us pray for a return to real "Shalom with security" and

(6)
Teresa,
September 22, 2003 12:00 AM

Senseless

Hello I am a American, I read that story about the wedding dress, and it really sadden me and touched my heart. I will never understand how a person or person's could do such a horrible act against another fellow human being. Peace Be With You..

(5)
IlanaWald,
September 22, 2003 12:00 AM

superbly written

I have just encountered a special experience in my journey through this article.

(4)
Anonymous,
September 22, 2003 12:00 AM

G-d didn't invent murder. He said don't do it and man did. G-d didn't invent war

but He promises a time when man will stop. G-d doesn't send out suicide bombers-they are people who allow evil to overtake them, to dwell on it and to wallow in it. G-d doesn't cause disease, He made a delicate balance and man

isn't happy a day he doesn't meddle with

it.

G-d didn't invent death to anger the living. To die is not to be punished.

Maybe it's good to cry so at least, for once, He doesn't have to cry alone.

(3)
Char,
September 21, 2003 12:00 AM

Mending Broken Fences

Toda. In one's mind just thinking about asking someone to forgive you, seems almost impossible. However, once you begin the process with another facing you, there is such a tremendous burden lifted. And the simchat that comes when two can embrace each other is a beautiful expression to assure one or both people that all is truly forgiven. Shalom.

(2)
Chaya,
September 21, 2003 12:00 AM

It will Never be the Same

The wedding dress and kittel were stunning metaphors. From now on, every time a glass gets broken at a wedding, the event will be linked in my mind to the terror attacks of this week.

May Hashem keep you safe and bring Peace.

(1)
Anonymous,
September 21, 2003 12:00 AM

Interesting, educational, thought provoking

Well written and makes one think about the true meaning of the High Holy Days...

I just got married and have an important question: Can we eat rice on Passover? My wife grew up eating it, and I did not. Is this just a matter of family tradition?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

The Torah instructs a Jew not to eat (or even possess) chametz all seven days of Passover (Exodus 13:3). "Chametz" is defined as any of the five grains (wheat, spelt, barley, oats, and rye) that came into contact with water for more than 18 minutes. Chametz is a serious Torah prohibition, and for that reason we take extra protective measures on Passover to prevent any mistakes.

Hence the category of food called "kitniyot" (sometimes referred to generically as "legumes"). This includes rice, corn, soy beans, string beans, peas, lentils, peanuts, mustard, sesame seeds and poppy seeds. Even though kitniyot cannot technically become chametz, Ashkenazi Jews do not eat them on Passover. Why?

Products of kitniyot often appear like chametz products. For example, it can be hard to distinguish between rice flour (kitniyot) and wheat flour (chametz). Also, chametz grains may become inadvertently mixed together with kitniyot. Therefore, to prevent confusion, all kitniyot were prohibited.

In Jewish law, there is one important distinction between chametz and kitniyot. During Passover, it is forbidden to even have chametz in one's possession (hence the custom of "selling chametz"). Whereas it is permitted to own kitniyot during Passover and even to use it - not for eating - but for things like baby powder which contains cornstarch. Similarly, someone who is sick is allowed to take medicine containing kitniyot.

What about derivatives of kitniyot - e.g. corn oil, peanut oil, etc? This is a difference of opinion. Many will use kitniyot-based oils on Passover, while others are strict and only use olive or walnut oil.

Finally, there is one product called "quinoa" (pronounced "ken-wah" or "kin-o-ah") that is permitted on Passover even for Ashkenazim. Although it resembles a grain, it is technically a grass, and was never included in the prohibition against kitniyot. It is prepared like rice and has a very high protein content. (It's excellent in "cholent" stew!) In the United States and elsewhere, mainstream kosher supervision agencies certify it "Kosher for Passover" -- look for the label.

Interestingly, the Sefardi Jewish community does not have a prohibition against kitniyot. This creates the strange situation, for example, where one family could be eating rice on Passover - when their neighbors will not. So am I going to guess here that you are Ashkenazi and your wife is Sefardi. Am I right?

Yahrtzeit of Rabbi Moses ben Nachman (1194-1270), known as Nachmanides, and by the acronym of his name, Ramban. Born in Spain, he was a physician by trade, but was best-known for authoring brilliant commentaries on the Bible, Talmud, and philosophy. In 1263, King James of Spain authorized a disputation (religious debate) between Nachmanides and a Jewish convert to Christianity, Pablo Christiani. Nachmanides reluctantly agreed to take part, only after being assured by the king that he would have full freedom of expression. Nachmanides won the debate, which earned the king's respect and a prize of 300 gold coins. But this incensed the Church: Nachmanides was charged with blasphemy and he was forced to flee Spain. So at age 72, Nachmanides moved to Jerusalem. He was struck by the desolation in the Holy City -- there were so few Jews that he could not even find a minyan to pray. Nachmanides immediately set about rebuilding the Jewish community. The Ramban Synagogue stands today in Jerusalem's Old City, a living testimony to his efforts.

It's easy to be intimidated by mean people. See through their mask. Underneath is an insecure and unhappy person. They are alienated from others because they are alienated from themselves.

Have compassion for them. Not pity, not condemning, not fear, but compassion. Feel for their suffering. Identify with their core humanity. You might be able to influence them for the good. You might not. Either way your compassion frees you from their destructiveness. And if you would like to help them change, compassion gives you a chance to succeed.

It is the nature of a person to be influenced by his fellows and comrades (Rambam, Hil. De'os 6:1).

We can never escape the influence of our environment. Our life-style impacts upon us and, as if by osmosis, penetrates our skin and becomes part of us.

Our environment today is thoroughly computerized. Computer intelligence is no longer a science-fiction fantasy, but an everyday occurrence. Some computers can even carry out complete interviews. The computer asks questions, receives answers, interprets these answers, and uses its newly acquired information to ask new questions.

Still, while computers may be able to think, they cannot feel. The uniqueness of human beings is therefore no longer in their intellect, but in their emotions.

We must be extremely careful not to allow ourselves to become human computers that are devoid of feelings. Our culture is in danger of losing this essential aspect of humanity, remaining only with intellect. Because we communicate so much with unfeeling computers, we are in danger of becoming disconnected from our own feelings and oblivious to the feelings of others.

As we check in at our jobs, and the computer on our desk greets us with, "Good morning, Mr. Smith. Today is Wednesday, and here is the agenda for today," let us remember that this machine may indeed be brilliant, but it cannot laugh or cry. It cannot be happy if we succeed, or sad if we fail.

Today I shall...

try to remain a human being in every way - by keeping in touch with my own feelings and being sensitive to the feelings of others.

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